


Habitat 8: Thedas

by cedarmoons



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Crack Crossover, Gen, Next Level Modern Girl In Thedas AU, step up your meta game fanfic writers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 14:51:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10811217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cedarmoons/pseuds/cedarmoons
Summary: Sara finds a seemingly golden world beyond the Scourge. Locals - humans (who aren't humans from Earth, by the way, yet somehow know EnglishandFrench) - call it 'Thedas'. But for permission to settle this golden world, someone called the Inquisitor needs her help with some guy named Solas.





	Habitat 8: Thedas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sansbanshees](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansbanshees/gifts).



> for sansbanshees, who is an incorrigible enabler. also I haven't finished the game so apologies for character voices, etc. unbeta'd because that's just how I roll.

When they find it, separated from the rest of Heleus by the Scourge, Sara cannot believe it.

“A golden world,” she says, looking over the data Sam’s analysis provides. Oceans of water, not sulfer or nitrogen or some other inhospitable chemical. Breathable air. Non-toxic _anything_ , so far as Sam can read. “Oh my God. We found one. We _actually_ found one!”

“I am detecting intelligent life, Pathfinder,” Sam says, “though I do not have enough data to confirm what kind of life exists on this planet.”

“Let’s go down there, then,” she declares, leaning on the rail and gazing at the planet with wonder. She can see white-capped mountain peaks from here, a storm over some northern sea, a desert on the left. Part of it is kind of shaped like a boot. A giant continent on the western side of the planet, and other continents and archipelagos on the eastern side.

They’ll check out the large one first.

“What should we call it?” she asks, fingers curling around the guardrail. “Suvi, Kallo, can you find a good landing spot here?”

“Working on it, Pathfinder,” Kallo says. “There seems to be a good stretch of plains on the left side of the continent. Hopefully that will suffice.”

“Do it,” she says, gleeful. She’ll have to tell the Nexus about this, but first — they’ll have to check for any gotchas. Don’t want colonists to go down planetside and find out it’s all going to implode from terrible, imminent earthquakes. “Sam, could you tell Liam and Cora to come meet me in the hangar? We’re going out.”

When they land and their feet touch solid ground, Sara takes off her helmet. The air smells sweet. The plains’ grass sways in the breeze, reaching up to her hips. “Wow,” she breathes, hand going out to touch some of the flowers blooming at the edge of the stalks. She looks up and sees the mountain range, far away and capped in white. “And this whole planet is diverse. We could have—so many people here.”

Liam whistles. “Look at that,” he says, pointing, and Sara cranes her head. She can see a statue, carved into a mountainface, of a — dog? — reclining, watching the valley carefully.

It’s kinda cute. She wants to see what it’s made out of. Her companions don’t say anything, used to her exploratory tendencies by now — but she’s an adventurer at heart, and a _recon specialist_ , so it’s really not her fault — and instead fall behind her, on the lookout for any signs of life. Not that there has been any, not even wildlife.

When they do reach the statue, she scans it, only to find it’s made out of granite, not actually carved into the mountain. Someone had hauled it up the mountainside to place it here. Which means…

“There are already people here,” she says, heart sinking. She remembers her history, and she has actively avoided colonizing planets already occupied. Sometimes they’d been forced to do just that, but the pressure is off the Nexus now.

“Could be extinct,” says Cora. “No reason to lose hope.”

Sara smiles. Her optimism has been rubbing off on the crew. “Let’s get back down and explore some more,” she says. They find a river, and next to it is some small blue-and-white animal with the body of a hippo, tusks of a boar, and drooping, wrinkled snout. It flees at the sight of them, squealing in terror, and Sara lifts an eyebrow. “I don’t think this is what you meant by intelligent life here, Sam.”

“No. If we encounter any alien species, I can provide more data.” A pause. “You should know, Pathfinder, that the chemical composition of the soil is similar to that of the Great Plains in North America on Earth. This may be a good location for a farming outpost.”

“Noted. Mark this navpoint on my map.” When they go a little farther down the river, they find a ruin, towering on a hilltop. Her heart sinks at yet more evidence this planet is occupied, but sheer curiosity drives her forward. The building is made out of blocks of stone, blackened with age and covered in moss. There’s no floor, ceiling, or windows, but when she scans it there is some strange glyph — not Remnant — hidden in the wall.

“Determining age of structure. One moment.” She waits, and Sam speaks almost immediately. “Estimating an age of three hundred years, Pathfinder. That glyph contains traces of energies I cannot comprehend. Scanning for more glyphs may allow more data.”

She finds two others, yet all of them remain mystified.

“Guess we’ll need a local to explain,” says Liam. “If there are any.”

“We could send a research team from the Nexus,” says Sara. “Bet Doctor Aridana would love to get her hands on this.”

“I can send a missive to the doctor now, Pathfinder,” Sam offers.

“No. This place is huge. I want to explore it all before we send anyone here. Don’t want to find out the air is only breathable during the day or something.”

“The air is indeed strange here,” Sam agrees. Sara falters, almost stops walking, but he continues. “There is nothing wrong with the chemical composition, but the particles vibrate at a strange rate. The rate also seems to be fluctuating depending on where you go. The vibration was stronger, for instance, at the top of the mountain, and weaker here in the valley. I cannot determine the purpose of this phenomenon.”

“We’ll find out,” Sara guesses. “Let’s keep looking.”

They find more ruins — this time a shell of a town. Whatever structures are left are scorched, burnt-out shells. Apparently only one hundred years old, according to Sam. And on the lone stone structure — a pillar, engraved in symbols she nor Sam can read — there are nocks from arrows and swords.

“Arrows and swords, huh,” Sara says. “Guess we’re in this planet’s equivalent of the Middle Ages.”

She looks up, and Cora shouts, “Sniper above!”

As she speaks, an arrow whizzes past her, embedding itself in the dirt.

“Okay, first protocol contact,” Sara retorts. “They’re not gonna hurt us with medieval tech. Drop the guns. Come on.” She looks toward the cliffs above, where the arrow had come from, and shouts, “Hello! We come in peace, and we’d like to talk to you, if that is alright!”

A face of metal appears from behind a rock and peers down at her.

Great. The planet was populated by tin-men.

“I believe he is wearing a mask, Pathfinder,” Sam says. “I detect a human behind it.”

“A human?” she whispers. “That’s impossible.” She was the first one from the Milky Way to cross this portion of the Scourge. No one from the Nexus had been here yet, and history certainly hadn’t recorded any group of humans leaving the Milky Way galaxy before the Initiative.

“They’re human?” Cora says.

“It is. His genome is a 97.9% match of a human from Earth. The only difference I can detect is he has a second circulation system, though this one seems to be sealed.”

“A second circulation system? Does he have two hearts?” Her eyes remain on the rocks as more faces appear, then disappear, then reappear. Guess they were consulting with each other.

“No. It does not seem to be connected to any organ.”

She watches, wary, as the group comes down to join them in the valley. They’re armored, seem to be soldiers, and the leader of them has a helmet that sprouts a large blue plume. _Overcompensating,_  she thinks immediately, and cannot stop her juvenile smile behind her helmet. Her smile fades when the leader points her sword at her throat and starts speaking to her, so quickly her translator can’t keep up.

Not that it would be able to understand an alien language they’ve never encountered before.

“She is speaking French, Pathfinder. One moment—”

“Did you say she’s speaking French?” she asks, incredulous.

“Yes. Did you not hear me the first time?” Sam asks, and she rolls her eyes. _Shut up, Sam_.

“I am speaking _Orlesian_ ,” the woman snaps at her. She guesses this ‘or-lee-shien’ is what she calls French. “What are you? Who are you?”

In the private comm, Sam says, “I did not have enough time to adjust your translator, Pathfinder. This woman seems to know English as well.”

 _The fuck?_ she thinks. How does an alien species end up being human, knowing French _and_ English, yet—she slowly reaches up and takes off her helmet, tucking her hair behind her ears. A murmur goes through the soldiers. “My name is Sara Ryder. I’m with the Andromeda Initiative. I mean you no harm and am here simply to explore your planet.”

“My planet?” the woman’s voice sounds confused. “Do you mean Thedas?”

“Yeah. Thedas. Absolutely what I meant. Do I get to know _your_ name?”

The woman lowers her sword, staring at her for a moment before she sheathes it. “I am Commander Jehan, commander of the garrison here in the Exalted Plains for Empress Celene.”

Empress. The whole continent might be occupied, then. Her heart sank further. Commander Jehan jerks her head toward Cora and Liam. “Who are they?”

With a look from Sara, both of them unclasp their helmets. “Cora,” says Sara, gesturing to her, “and Liam. My companions.”

In the private comm, Sam says, “The translator has been calibrated to include additional human languages, Pathfinder. Should anyone speak to you in French again, you will be able to understand them.”

“You are human?” Jehan asks. Sara nods. She gestures to her armor, and weapons. “Where did you get— _these_ , then?”

She doesn’t have to be told about the protocol to know she shouldn’t tell medieval-era societies about guns. “I made them. They’re decoration.”

“Do not lie to me. Remember you are only alive because I permit it.”

Sara nods. “I am aware, Commander. They're, uh, weapons. We brought them for our own protection, and they are dangerous if you don't know how to use them.”

One soldier steps up, and in French, murmurs, “The Empress and the Inquisitor will want to know about this.”

“I know,” Jehan hisses back. She turns back to them and addresses them in English once more. “You will come with me to Fort Revasan, and I will alert my superiors to your presence. They will decide what to do with you. Until then, you will be our—guests. Orlesians do not have a reputation of hospitality for nothing, after all.”

She says that, but then she tells her men to confiscate their guns. Sara lets them go, even if some part of her feels vulnerable without it. Still, their armor and shields — plus Cora’s biotics and Remy the VI — are more than strong enough to take them out if they’re attacked.

“Thank you for your hospitality,” says Sara, as unironically as she can, watching the soldiers handle her guns as if it is something that has three heads. She puts her helmet back on, then waits until Jehan turns and starts walking. When the commander’s back is turned, she mutters, “Did you catch that, Kallo?”

His voice comes on over the comm. “Yeah, but we don’t have maps of this place. If you need a rescue mission we’ll have to go on foot with Sam telling us where to go.”

Jaal speaks next. “Are you in danger, Sara?”

“No. I don’t think so,” she mutters, trying to keep her voice low so Jehan won’t overhear. “We’re going to be their guests for… uh… indefinitely. But I don’t want any non-humans leaving the Tempest. I don’t know how they’d react to you guys and I don’t want to find out the hard way. That’s an order.”

Jaal makes a frustrated sound but says nothing.

“Is it true that there are humans here?” Peebee asks. “How is that possible? Have you found any Rem-tech yet?”

“Yes, I don’t know, and no,” says Sara. “In that order.”

“Who are you talking to?” Jehan asks, looking over her shoulder.

“Myself,” says Sara immediately.

“She does that a lot,” Liam adds. “You get used to it after a while.”

“Liam,” Cora hisses.

The soldiers take them to a castle and put them in the highest room. It has one tiny window that lets in a beam of sunlight, but it’s got a hand-carved bed and a spinning wheel in the corner. There’s no rug to cover the stone floor, but there’s a chamberpot in the corner and straw scattered across the room. “Well, we have something to occupy our time,” Sara says, reaching out and spinning the wheel with a flick of her finger. “Anyone know how to turn the straw into gold?”

“They have posted guards outside, Pathfinder,” Sam informs her. Cora looks out the tiny window, where the cliffs and a thousand-foot-drop away them. Her face doesn’t even fit in the narrow width of the window slit.

“If we need to, I can blast the wall with my biotics and our jump-packs will ensure we don’t break our necks on the way down,” she says.

“Sounds good. Always need an escape plan.”

* * *

They don’t end up breaking out, even if they’re kept under lock and key for a week. Jaal and Drack are anxious to free them — Drack because he wants a fight, and Jaal because he is concerned for her — but they are fed at regular intervals and their chamberpot is emptied every day. That had been awkward for all of them, but business is business, and backs are turned on all accounts. It’d been even worse when Liam tried talking to distract them from mutual embarrassment. It does make her more grateful for indoor plumbing, though.

Ultimately, Sara says no to the prison break because Jehan always tells them what she is doing. (“I have sent a letter to the Empress and the Inquisitor informing them of your presence.” “The letter has been delivered, and now we must wait for their response.”)

No one has told her what an ‘Inquisitor’ is, but it doesn’t sound good at all. Maybe a global dictator, above the Empress, like an Archon to a Cardinal.

A week after first contact, Jehan comes to them personally. “The Inquisitor wishes to speak with you,” she says. “He has sent a party to collect you and escort you to Val Royeaux. You will meet with him there.”

Sara nods, crossing her arms over her chest. “Uh, first, can I get my guns back?”

“Your guns?” Jehan asks, confused. She pronounces it strangely.  _Goon._

“The things you took from us,” she clarifies. “I’d like them back. They’re dangerous in the wrong hands.”

“Oh. Yes. One of our scholars killed himself trying to operate your… guns. We have not touched them since.”

“I’m sorry about his death,” she says, sincerely.

Once they’re geared up and ready to go, there are people waiting for them in the castle courtyard. All of them wear green-and-orange armor — yikes — and some of them wear a chestplate emblazoned with an eye that… appears to be on fire. Thankfully, none of them are wearing masks.

Okay. Well. They’re not dead yet, and there’s no translation barrier. She can work with this.

* * *

They take her to a city built of white stone, with blue tile tops. A city they call ‘Val Roy-oh’. Everyone dresses like pre-Revolution France, all fluffy hats and too-big skirts and wigs. Very fancy. Just like the castle back in the Exalted Plains, single person she sees — with the exception of her squad and the Inquisitor’s escort party — wears a mask. Every person’s mask is unique, which makes the phenomenon even more interesting.

She doesn’t understand how French colonists could a) get to Andromeda without _anyone_ in the Milky Way knowing or b) create a settlement with no patisseries. If these people aren’t French colonists, just humans who evolved independently of Earth, then there is no reason they should have any knowledge of English or French. It just doesn’t make any sense.

“So, who is this Inquisitor?” she asks one of the guards as she’s walking through the city.

“How do you not know the Inquisitor?” he asks, eyes widening in surprise.

Okay, so, she’s meeting a celebrity and not a dictator. Good to know.

She’s a little comforted by the fact that she knows Kallo has followed them, cloaking the Tempest at night and doing his best to find spaces that are large enough to support the ship yet close enough to her location that her squad can help if they end up in trouble.

They are taken to a giant church that kind of reminds her of the Vatican. Soldiers with flaming swords on their chest-plates stand guard, watching their procession in silence. “These soldiers’ systems are augmented by some kind of stimulant, Pathfinder,” Sam says. “Further investigation is required to determine the nature of it.”

They’re led to an office of some kind, or maybe a throne room. Red tapestries embroidered with golden threaded flames hang from the walls, and a matching red carpet lines the length between the door and the desk which two people sit at.

The Inquisitor’s escorts leave her, and Sara stops walking, eyes bugging as she stares at the man. Liam has to elbow her before she jolts out of it.

“Pathfinder. This person has the same second circulation system as the humans, though his is active, and seems to be circulating energy instead of blood. I hypothesize that this second circulation system is a global characteristic of the planet’s population. Also, the air particles vibrate slower around his body than they do with the others.”

The man — the Inquisitor, perhaps, or maybe the redhead woman next to him — has horns. Actual horns. They’re shaped like a ram’s, large, black, and curling behind his pointed ears, originating from two places on his forehead. His head is shaven, though there is black stubble covering his scalp. He looks up, revealing two piercing blue eyes.

 _Oh no_ , she thinks. _He’s hot._

“Foreign DNA detected,” Sam tells her. “The woman beside him is a human. The particle vibrations are different from the man’s. Faster. I hypothesize it is because her second circulatory system is inactive.”

It is the woman who speaks first. She straightens up, arms crossing behind her back, and the horned alien goes back to studying the map in front of him. “So,” she says, crossing the desk and striding toward them. “You are the visitors we have heard so much about.”

“Yep, that’s us!” Sara says. “Are you the Inquisitor we have heard so much about?”

The redhead woman only smiles. “You are not from Thedas, yet you speak our common trade tongue,” she says. “How do you know it? Are you from across the sea?”

“We’re… uh…”

Sam speaks up over her private comm. “Be advised, Pathfinder: This civilization has not discovered the Tempest, nor do they know of spaceflight or any advanced technology beyond the printing press. I recommend reticence, to allow their development to proceed naturally.”

 _Isn’t that a little late, Sam?_ she thinks.

“Possibly,” he acknowledges.

“Yeah, we’re from across the sea,” Liam says, elbowing her again. Had she taken too long to reply? Damn it. “Just wanted to take a look around, explore a little. No harm in that, yeah?”

Her gaze hardens. “That sounds ominous. We have more than enough manpower to repel an invasion, if that is your intent.”

“It’s not,” says Cora, shooting Liam a glare. Sara clears her throat and step forward.

“My name is Sara Ryder. I’m with the Andromeda Initiative from, uh, across the sea. My people have come a long way and need a place to call home, but—” _but you guys have medieval tech, but your world is already occupied, but but but_. “I don’t want to settle here without your permission. Or, er, the Inquisitor’s. If you’re not the Inquisitor. Or the permission of whoever I need to talk to about this sort of thing.”

“My permission?” the horned man asks, finally looking up from his map. The redhead sighs, then jerks her head in his direction. When she turns and starts walking back to the desk, Sara follows.

“And the permission of whoever this Empress is, probably,” Sara says, waving a hand. “But—you know, usually to get permission I just, like, prove myself somehow. So if you need me to do anything for you guys, I’m down.”

“You will help us in exchange for being allowed to settle on Thedas?” the Inquisitor asks.

“Yup.” She pops the p.

“What are you willing to do for us?” asks the redhead.

“Anything,” Sara confirms. Liam sighs behind her, and she can’t stop her smile. She knows that if someone says they’re willing to do ‘anything,’ something bad happens. But she’s done the impossible. She’s beaten the kett. Everything is cake compared to that.

The Inquisitor and the redhead glance at each other. “No,” he says, but he doesn’t seem to be talking to her.

“We need people he doesn’t know,” the redhead says. “I say this counts. And we need all the help we can get. He is _winning_ , Kaaras.”

“They’re strangers,” he argues. “ _We_ don’t even know them. And he probably already knows they’re here. No element of surprise.”

“Hey. Let us prove ourselves,” Sara says. “I’m game. Whatever you need, I’ll do it. Just tell me what to do. Are you fighting somebody? I can kick his ass for you if you’d like.”

The redhead’s smile is a small thing, but it gives Sara hope. “It’s a long story,” Kaaras warns.

“I got time.” She’d have to go looking for monoliths, anyway; see if the Scourge had affected anything on this planet. If this planet even had a vault. She hadn’t seen any Rem-tech in her short time here.

“All right. Sit down, all of you. Before we get anywhere, I need to tell you about Solas.”

**Author's Note:**

> this may become more than a oneshot in time. I actually have tons of headcanons and things I want to write out already (why am I like this lmao). but for now, unless people really seem to like this, it'll stay a cracky oneshot.


End file.
